A Precious Piece of Paper

How many times do I take for granted simple things? I live in an area where "everyone" is a "Christian." But do you realize not everyone knows Him? I mean truly knows Him. I realize it, but I'm afraid I don't think on it as much as I should. Saturday I learned an important lesson, and I'd like to share it with you.

I went back to the town where I grew up. Someone I knew had died, and my grandmother and I attended the funeral. Afterward, she wanted to take me to lunch before I headed back to Greenville. She and I both enjoy Chinese, so we went to a local restaurant.

Before I got out of the car, I reached over into my dash and grabbed a Chinese tract. I don't see a lot of Chinese people, so I rarely get to give them out, but I knew the people who owned this restaurant could probably read it.

We went inside and had our meal. As we were preparing to leave, I pulled the tract out of my pocket book and started to put a tip inside. A waitress across the room saw me and came over to our table quickly.

She was smiling, and asked in broken English, "I see, please?"
"Of course," I responded, and handed it to her.
She stood there and read the ENTIRE thing, and smiled even bigger.
She said, "It in Chinese!"
I responded that, yes, it was in Chinese.
Then she looked at me seriously and asked, "Can I keep?"
I already knew I was going to cry, and I responded that it was for her.
She looked so surprised. "It...for me?" she asked.
All I could do now was nod.
She thanked me and went away.

I've been thinking about that conversation all week. You see, I've been raised in a good Independent Baptist Church of some kind all my life. For as long as I can remember I've been in church and under sound preaching. I know all the songs, I know all about the gospel. It's kind of like the air I breathe...it's there. How many times do I take it for granted?

How many times do I just forget to thank God for how good He is to me? He allowed me to be born in America. Not just that, He allowed me to be born in the South, where everyone knows "something" about God.

I could have been born in China, where the gospel isn't freely spoken.

I could have came to America as a foreigner, not speaking the language, and as a result, most likely not being reached with the gospel.

I have tons of tracts. English, Spanish, and yes, Chinese. I have easy access to them.

I have six Bibles (although 4 years ago, I only had 1); two of which are bilingual English/Spanish Bibles.

I live within walking distance of my church, and where I used to live, I was less than a five minute drive away.

I can worship freely and publicly pass out tracts and witness. I can be open about my faith. I am so blessed, and I take things like a "simple" gospel tract for granted, when to that dear woman, it was PRECIOUS!

And she is right. It is precious! My Saviour is Precious, and so is His gospel. It is also powerful. So powerful that it changed me from a wicked sinner to a child of God. So powerful that it can reach a Chinese woman living in America.

So I pray for her. Since Saturday, I've prayed each morning that God would not allow His Word to return void, that she would accept the gospel and be saved. I may never know this side of Heaven, but I pray she comes to know the PERSON that the PAPER told her about.

May God forgive me for not being as reverent as I should have been toward His gospel, and may this encourage you as well to thank Him for His saving power that reached you.

God bless!